Helios Cyrus and the Vengeance of Ancients
by Boltstriker
Summary: In this sequel to Darius Morgan and the Constellations, a mysterious demigod wakes up in the Big House, remembering only his name - Helios Cyrus. Little does he know that his godly parentage will contribute to his huge role in an upcoming war. This adventure will bring him to great realizations and an ancient vengeance fueled by an archaic divide just healed. DON'T SUE ME RIORDAN!


Helios Cyrus and the Vengeance of Ancients

This is the sequel to Darius Morgan and the Constellations. Enjoy.

Chapter 1: Awakening

I woke up. I didn't remember anything. I was in a room within a wooden house on a white hammock. I was wearing an orange shirt and pants. I had no idea where I was, what I was, or even who I was.

"He is stirring," said a man. "Grover, if anything goes wrong, we'll get the director."

I heard a goat's bay, followed by the clopping of hooves, and finally a door slamming shut.

"Excuse me?" I said, in a language I had never spoken in before.

"Ahh, you are awake. Allow me to introduce myself – I am Chiron, immortal trainer of heroes."

I turned my head and saw Chiron – he looked enough like a man, but then I saw the body of a white horse sprouting from his torso. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that I had seen a creature like him before.

"You do not seem fazed by my appearance. Usually, the others prefer for me to be in my wheelchair when I introduce myself. Now, onto you. Who are you, exactly?"

"Umm, I'm not sure," I said. I pondered for a moment, then said, "Helios. Helios Cyrus."

"Peculiar. You know, we found you just outside the camp boundaries. No note, nothing, so we assume a god dropped you off here," Chiron told me.

Gods? That didn't seem like such a foreign idea to me, but why?

"Where am I?"

"Why, my boy, you're at Camp Half-Blood," Chiron announced.

He helped me get on my feet and took me around the camp. It was beautiful – the forest blended in perfectly with the fields, the weather was phenomenal, and the various structures shimmered in the sunlight around the camp. We passed other campers, all of them wearing the same orange shirt as me, and some of them wearing armor and carrying weapons. We made it to the arena when my tour was interrupted by something that was, I learned, much more important than this.

"CHIRON!" screamed a sobbing girl. She had blonde hair and wore a black leather jacket and jeans. She was accompanied by four others – a black-haired taller boy, a short black-haired boy with fire sprouting from his fingertips, a blonde boy with chiseled features and some muscles, and a brunette girl who was also crying.

"My dear Taylor," Chiron said, "What seems to be the issue? You survived, didn't you?"

Chiron seemed to know it was a bad question before he asked it. I had only been awake for thirty minutes, but I knew that the group did not leave camp with five people. One was dead.

"Chiron, he jumped inside . . . he tried to kill it. But he – he can't be . . ."

Taylor couldn't bring herself to call this dead person truly dead. They must have had a special relationship.

Chiron rubbed his chin with a sad expression for a second, then said, "Sound the conch, and gather everyone in the amphitheater."

A loud horn blew, and Chiron trotted away to a semicircle-shaped theater a few hundred yards away, and I followed him, along with the rest of the campers in our area. I decided to sit in the middle so I could stay unnoticed.

When enough people gathered in the amphitheater, Chiron looked at the campers grimly.

"Three days ago, Darius Morgan, son of Zeus, left the camp unannounced. Taylor Drake, daughter of Hades, volunteered for a quest to go after him, and I have been informed that they traveled all the way to Mount Tamalpais with him. On the mountain, Darius made a brave sacrifice that ended in his death. We shall not forget Darius Morgan."

The crowd stayed silent, and two goat-legged men – satyrs – brought out a gold shroud emblazoned with a lightning bolt. They lit the shroud as a funeral pyre. The crowd stayed silent still.

The day was absolutely terrible. Barely anyone talked, and a dark storm cloud covered the cabin area. The hours passed as the sun was shrouded by a literal and figurative dreariness, and I decided I'd try and get some rest, even though I had been asleep for Zeus knows how long. However, I knew that my sleep was not real sleep – it was a coma – and I wanted to know what real sleep felt like.

Chiron showed me to Cabin Eleven, the Hermes Cabin, who, although very rarely nowadays, were always willing to take in unclaimed campers. I didn't know who my godly parent was, and I was told my Chiron that it couldn't be Helios, my namesake, because he faded in the Ancient Roman era. So, I plopped down on an empty bed near the front of the cabin and let my soul drift.

I dreamt of a young man, no older than fifteen. He was sleeping, like I was, but his body was fluid and flowing, like he was in water. His image shimmered as though it were a hologram until a skeletal hand ripped through it.

"My lord," said a chattering voice, "What do we do about him?"

"We do nothing," said a booming, sinister voice, "I swore never to retrieve a drowning soul. The current is too strong for even me."

A third voice, this time from a girl, which I also recognized, chimed in. "Father, we cannot let him drift for eternity! He's important!"

I looked away from where the boy's image was to see three figures. The first voice came from a skeleton in Greek armor, which was holding a very uncharacteristic machine gun. The second voice came from a giant man in black robes and a helmet that seemed to bend light towards it like a black hole. The third voice came from the ghostly form of Taylor Drake.

"Taylor, he is important to you, but the Fates do not need him. If destiny does not require his life, his death becomes irrelevant to the greater picture. I pity your loss, my child, but the inevitability of his end should not be altered," said the giant man.

"Lord Hades," said the skeleton, "Has there ever been a drifting soul before?"

"Of course there have been," Hades said strongly.

"Father, have they ever been wholly intact before?" Taylor asked hopefully.

"If there have been, Charon would have reported them to me," Hades said, though he realized the flaw in his argument before he even finished.

"Father, this must be a special circumstance. The current would wash away any soul and leave it in pieces, but never in history has anyone been left alone to drift."

Hades's eyes flared so brightly it momentarily made his helmet flicker away, though it came back to shroud his head once more. He said nothing.

"If you will not retrieve him, I will!" Taylor exclaimed with finality, and her image disappeared.

Hades turned to me, his eyes burning again. "You there, demigod! Have you been watching this? I expect you're a part of this new chapter too! Well don't expect the special treatment from me, for death is never tempted by mortal conflict."

I woke with a start in a cold sweat. I couldn't believe Hades knew I was there. However, there were two things I was certain of; that boy was Darius Morgan, and someone had to find him.


End file.
